Marshmallows
by otahyoni
Summary: Wes Janson entertains himself the best way he knows how: pranks. Set during Solo Command. Wes, Face Loran, and lots of marshmallows.


Note: Written from a prompt - Wes, Hobbie, Face, and Phanan; a Jedi other than Corran Horn; marshmallows, x-wing, Verpine. Watch as I blatantly fiddle with canon details to work all (or almost all) requested elements into my story! Sadly, the setting necessitated by the majority of the elements means that Phanan is very dead and thus can't join Wes and Face in their reindeer games.

Set during _Solo Command. _

* * *

**Marshmallows**

Wes Janson had been trying to find Hobbie Klivian for half an hour, and he was beginning to suspect the other pilot was hiding from him.

He stepped through the door of the _Mon Remonda_'s hangar bay and looked around. It was the last of the obvious places to look for Hobbie; after this he'd have to start checking inside supply closets and beneath control panels.

In the middle of the hangar, the Verpine mechanic Zraii and the protocol droid Emtrey stood in front of a large stack of crates. Both were doing an excellent job of mimicking the body language of a very confused human.

Forgetting his search, Wes approached them. "What's all this?" he asked.

Emtrey turned golden eyes on him briefly before continuing to stare up at the cargo crates. "I believe my requisition order has been swapped with that of the ship's kitchen, though I can't understand why they would order four dozen crates of marshmallows. It must be a mistake."

Wes' eyes widened. "All of these boxes are filled with marshmallows?"

Zraii chittered and pointed at a crate near his feet, which had been opened. Wes crouched next to it and lifted the lid. Inside were several neat stacks of plasticine bags of marshmallows.

Wes whistled. "That's a lot of marshmallows."

"Yes," Emtrey said, sounding distinctly cranky. "It most certainly is. And we have no use for them here. Now I have to find someone to transport them elsewhere, and then I have to discover where _my _order has gone."

Wes picked up a bag of marshmallows and bounced it on his palm. He thought about what Hobbie would do in this situation, and then decided on the exact opposite. He stood, the bag of marshmallows still in his hand. "Let me take care of it, Emtrey. I'll get rid of them for you."

The droid looked at him suspiciously, if such a thing was possible. "How?"

Wes shrugged and smiled. "I'll think of something. I just think it's a much bigger priority at this point to find our spare parts, don't you agree? We don't want our X-wings falling apart mid-battle."

Emtrey seemed to be considering. Zraii wiggled his antennae and made a few inquisitive sounding clicks.

"I'll get rid of them," Wes said. "Promise. One less thing you have to worry about."

"Very well," Emtrey said reluctantly. "Summon me if you find you require assistance."

"Of course," Wes said cheerily. He waved the droid away. "Go find our parts. I'll take of this."

The droid shuffled off, and Wes got to work.

* * *

Once Zraii understood what Wes wanted to do, the Verpine was eager to help. Wes hadn't realized the insectoid race had a sense of humor, but he was always glad to find a new prank partner. 

They started with Hobbie's X-wing as revenge for hiding from Wes. It took a crate and a half of marshmallows to fill the cockpit, but the work went quickly. Zraii tossed bags up to Wes, who stood at the top of the ladder and emptied them onto Hobbie's seat in an impressive pile of sticky, white pellets.

They did Wedge's ship next, then moved to Tycho's. The floor of Tycho's cockpit had just disappeared when Wes turned to catch the next bag of marshmallows only to find that Zraii and the crate they'd been emptying had disappeared. He scanned the hangar, about to call the Verpine's name, when he saw Princess Leia Organa walking toward him.

He nearly fell off the ladder in his haste to distance himself from the incriminating evidence. The princess had obviously seen him, so hiding wasn't an option. Instead, he moved to meet her, hoping the smile on his face was one of slight surprise rather than alarm.

"Princess," he said in greeting. "I didn't know you'd be joining us."

She shook her head. "I'm not. I just came to speak with General Solo, but he's in a strategy meeting. I decided to take a walk while I waited and ended up here." She waved an arm at the hangar bay. "Did I interrupt your work?" she asked.

The question, though delivered politely and innocently, made Wes begin to sweat, as he remembered that the princess was a jedi. Could she read his mind? Just in case, he silently repeated the word _mynock _over and over.

"Oh, no," he said. _Mynock mynock mynock_. "I was just fiddling with some of the controls." He smiled and laughed. _Mynock mynock_. "The last thing you want in space is sticky controls."

"No, I'd think not." She frowned slightly, and Wes paled as he realized that the barrage of _mynocks_ he was hurling at her could be considered an insult. He swallowed and switched his internal mantra to _marshmallows,_ immediately changed it to _idiot, _and then changed it again to _Verpine_. Where was that blasted mechanic, anyway?

"Are you all right, Lieutenant Janson?" the princess asked.

"Yes," he said quickly. "Fine."

She opened her mouth, looking unconvinced, but her comm beeped. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant. The meeting is over."

"No, fine," Wes said, backing up. "Have a nice…talk."

"Maybe you should get some rest."

"Of course. Yes. I will. Thank you, princess." He grinned, and she left the hangar at a brisk walk, shaking her head.

As soon as she was gone, Wes barked, "Zraii!"

The Verpine emerged from behind a nearby X-wing, a crate of marshmallows in its arms.

Wes pointed at him. "Never abandon your wingman," he said. "Now, come on. We've got work to do."

The Verpine made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

* * *

They were filling Gavin Darklighter's cockpit when Zraii clicked twice. Wes looked down into the amused face of Face Loran. 

"What?" Wes asked, torn between acting nonchalant and pulling rank.

"You haven't done mine yet, have you?" Face asked.

With narrowed eyes, Wes shook his head.

"If you promise _not_ to do mine, I'll help."

"Help?"

Face shrugged. "Everyone important is in a meeting of some sort, leaving the rest of us with nothing to do but sit in the caf and discuss what the important people might be discussing in said meetings. I'm bored."

Wes grinned. "Good." He pointed across the hangar. "Get started on the Wraiths' ships. This is the last of the Rogues."

Face saluted and began dragging a crate across the bay floor.

"Oh, and Face?" Wes called.

The other pilot stopped. "Yeah?"

"Don't do mine, either."

* * *

When Emtrey returned to the hanger two hours later, the crates of marshmallows were gone. He nodded to himself, mimicking satisfied behavior. 

Lieutenant Janson and Lieutenant Loran walked toward the droid from the other end of the bay, looking pleased.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Emtrey said. "I appreciate your help moving those supplies."

"No problem," Janson said. "Lieutenant Loran was kind enough to give me a hand. Did you find our stuff?"

"Yes," Emtrey said. "I've resolved the situation."

Janson smiled. "Good work, Emtrey. We'll see you later."

The two pilots left the hangar, and Emtrey shuffled to his office to make sure his forms were all in order.

It was another hour before he discovered exactly where Lieutenant Janson had moved the marshmallows

* * *

end

* * *

Usual disclaimers apply. 


End file.
